


Destiny

by peppymint



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppymint/pseuds/peppymint
Summary: Some things are just destined.  No matter what Earth you are on.





	Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How To Outrun Death](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/348246) by Lore55. 



> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
> 
> Peppymint's Fanfiction Blitz of 2018: Day 1 of 7
> 
> Based on the idea that Young Justice Kid Flash and Justice League Flash are the same person

It was late. It was in fact so late it was early. Most of the usual suspects had walked (staggered) home hours ago, leaving just the Rogues; and the bartender of course. Though to be honest the tired man was on the verge of throwing the supervillains out and closing up. They would grumble of course, but this wasn’t Gotham. They would go.

Too late, the man thought resignedly as the door burst open, revealing a figure in red and yellow. He could only hope they didn’t do too much damage. For once though, it seemed like the Rogues were the last thing on Flash’s mind. The speedster breezed right past them and slapped a twenty on the bar. “I want the strongest thing that will get me.”

The bartender blinked. The Rogues blinked. However, in following the age old adage that the customer is always right, he poured the hero a shot of Devil Springs Vodka. It was a drink he rarely served straight, but Flash had asked.

Turning to face his enemies cum rivals Flash toasted the group. “To Destiny,” he declared. Then, the hero downed the entire glass. His face making an interesting expression as the alcohol hit his tongue. Why had he thought this was a good idea again? 

Cold smirked, eyes searching. “Not a drinker Flash.”

“With my metabolism,” the speedster laughed. “You must be joking.” Wally could easily blow a month’s salary and not even get buzzed. He knew, because he and Dick had once raided the Manor’s wine cellar. Boy had Batman been pissed when he had seen his ward’s condition. 

Shoving away the memory of those carefree days he sank into one of the chairs. “What am I going to do?” the hero moaned. Wally had to admit, he had never felt so much sympathy for his Uncle in his life. 

Len put aside his own drink, reaching down to finger his Cold Gun. “Something we should know Flash?” Central was their turf, and anyone who thought otherwise was in for a rude awakening. 

Flash rolled his fingers across the table, not even attempted to keep his speed within human norms. “Why not,” he sighed. “If I can’t tell you who can I tell?” None of the League had ever confronted him on the matter and at this point he doubted they ever would.

Without a word the bartender flipped the sign to Closed before disappearing into the back. No way did he want to hear this. He had more sense than that. 

“You’ve all been in the business long enough to hear the stories,” Flash said. “Thrown back in time, forwards in time, alien planet, different dimension, magically transformed.” The possibilities were endless.

Heatwave shifted uncomfortably; pathetically glad none of the other Rogues were aware he had once been turned into a woman.

Flash paused before speaking again, voice low. “Such stories, they don’t always have happy endings.” Under his cowl, the hero closed his eyes. “It was an alien invasion. My Uncle, Flash the Second and my cousin Impulse were already on the scene.” He had to laugh at the look on the Rogues’ faces. “What can I say? Speed runs in the family.”

He sobered quickly. “Impulse wanted to slow down, but I told them to keep going.” Wally held up one hand, flexing his fingers as he remembered the long ago day. He forced a smile, a pale imitation of his usual grin. “Nothing says you’re screwed like being able to see through your own arm.” He fell silent.

“What happened?” It was Piper who asked.

“The first thought I ever had in this world was that being dead felt an awful lot like lying in the snow. The second was that I hurt too much to be dead.” Flash tried to smile again, failed. “I tried to go home of course; arrived just in time to see a child with my face get off the bus.” 

There was a long moment of silence. None of the Rogues were quite sure what to say.

“This world,” Flash continued. “Is very similar to my own.” God, what he would give to hear the once hated nickname of Baby Flash again. “But it is different enough that . . .” his voice trailed off.

Cold listened, his expression serious. He had always known Flash had hidden depths. But he hadn’t expected this.

The hero swallowed. “I’m not a masochist,” Flash said. “I’ve kept my distance, told myself the kid had a bright future ahead of him. A normal future.”

Suddenly Cold saw all too clearly where this was going. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” One chemistry lab, one stray bolt of lightning, and boom. It seemed a normal life wasn’t in the cards for Wally West no matter what world. He could only be glad the other was a teenager as oppose to the kid he could now admit he had been.

Trickster searched around for something to say to lighten the mood, rerunning the whole conversation in his mind. Then, the insane genius paused; if there had been a Flash in that other world did that mean? “Wait a minute,” he shrieked in outrage. “Does this mean we have been sabotaging ourselves?!”

The room exploded into chaos, the thought of a mini!Flash forgotten, until that is a few months later when the newly named Dispatch appeared in uniform for the first time. He got called Baby Flash anyway.


End file.
